Lordy Lordy - the parliamentary tour
By Terrence Oblong
- 436 reads
With Box on holiday and the household finances precarious as usual, I was reduced to hiring boy scouts on bob a job week to carry out my chores. Luckily, you can claim boy scouts on expenses.
One of the boys, called Scout, had also proved invaluable as a parliamentary assistant, so as a favour I agreed to take him and his friend Albert on a grand tour of parliament.
There was a queue of general riff raff at the main entrance, so I secreted my charges in through the Lords' robing entrance.
"Jesus," said Albert out loud, "There's a load of old blokes in their underpants."
"Those are not mere men," I said severely.
"What are they then, superheroes?"
"Those are peers of the realm. This is the Lords robing rooms, these are pre-robed peers."
"It smells like a cross between a nursing home and a gym changing room."
"That's basically what it is," said Scout.
"Hey look", said Albert, "it's that's former Minister who's always on the telly. My dad says he's a racist."
"He's not deaf you know," I said, "At least only partially. You come here, to the very centre of the historic heart of government and make crude allegations against a man whose family are part of the very thread with which our democracy was weaved."
"I just said there's a fat old racist in his underpants."
"We'd better move on," I said.
I did the full grand tour, complete with my very best anecdotes. Scout seemed enthused, asking sensible questions and taking illicit photos of the private parts of parliament's inner sanctum, but Albert seemed most unenthralled, at one point breaking into a yawn.
"Why are you yawning, I'm showing you the very wonders of the mother of parliaments."
"Sorry, I always yawn when I haven't eaten."
"You were eating on the way here."
"That was just second breakfast, I'm due lunch."
"It's not even 12 yet. If you eat now that'll be three meals before noon. Carry on at that rate you'll have had dinner by two and be in bed by three."
"I could do with a kip, actually. You don't have a bed here do you?"
"No we do not. What do you think this is. This is parliament, the working furnace of government. If we want to sleep here we do so on the parliamentary benches."
"My uncle Harry slept on a bench once when his wife threw him out. The cops nicked him for vagrancy."
"Okay, we'll have lunch soon. I'll just show you my office."
I took my young charges to my office, which I share with Baroness Bluster, only to find my desk removed and the office filled with dungaree and cardigan clad women.
"Oh it's you," said Lady Bluster in greeting, "I thought you must have retired, you've not been here for months, but I can see that you've joined the boy scouts."
"Where's my desk?" I said.
"In light of your absence I reallocated your desk space. We're using the room as an action base for the APPG on feminism. You're welcome to become a member of course, as long as you don't speak."
"You know my stance on All Party Groups, I think they're a waste of time."
"I wonder sometimes what you do do. You're never in your office. You're not a member of any APGs, you sleep through debates, you never ask a question. Yet every time I check your record you've claimed the maximum possible amount from your expenses."
"I only claim what's due in exchange for my services, and, as you can see, I have been busy involving myself in the work of the scouts and local community groups."
"Do your expenses cover lunch?" said Albert, "Only I'm famished."
"Have you not fed the poor child?" said Baroness Bluster. "Honestly, you can't be trusted with any responsibilities."
"Well he's hardly going to wither away. Oh, come on then, we've done the tour, let's go to the canteen."
We ordered luncheon and took our places at a vacant table.
"I've been thinking," said Scout. "If you joined the All Party Group on scouting you could name me and Albert as external members."
"Don't you have schools to go to?"
"It only meets twice a year. It would give me and Albert an excuse for a jolly to London. You could give us accommodation in your office."
"You've seen my office," I said. "I don't have space for myself, let alone a troop of boy scouts."
"That's my point, my Lord. Under Parliamentary Residence and Spaces legislation the maximum staff allowed per square metre is 0.05. If you employed Box, Albert and myself, the Parliamentary Estates Office would be duty bound to allocate you your own office."
"I wouldn't mind having your input twice a year," I said. "Occasional boy scouts has to be better than permanent Bluster. Let's celebrate with cake."
"I'll have a slice of cherry pie, two slices of walnut cake, a chocolate flapjack and a jam sponge," said Albert.
"Don't you worry about the size of your tummy?" I said.
"It takes of lot of work to keep it this size. I spent a month with my aunt one time and lost three stone. I had to borrow someone else's trousers."
"Well you just try to keep to your own trousers today," I said, "You've been enough trouble already."
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Comments
I did enjoy this, very funny,
I did enjoy this, very funny, and effective satire!
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